Stabbing will

as the sun sets on the horizon seen from the small hole of hope, farcical idea smacks the napping bird inside its steel piped cage— oh, how delightful it is to flee upon the clouds watching the boundless landscape of the world. moments of freedom was bestowed once— the chance that was vaporized due to uncertainty; feeling of pure relinquishment after choosing to be a slave rather than a King. trap in a labyrinth of heart, wanting to hit the boundary of its passages; confined by a feeling, with the obscure urge to be freed— stagnant water desiring to consolidate the liberated flow of the river. if only that bird was a dragon, a small cage could easily be smashed to smithereens— if only the air was popped out from the balloon precociously, it could spread its potential to enjoy the autonomy of its flight. that so-called benign love wrapped me like a mummy and burried in the unknown; wind whistles through my heart whispering about the delight of being liberate—.vclv thy love imprisoned me in an unreachable hole; a ladder could not help, even a rope of hope.